Not quite so simple
by starryjules
Summary: Ziva is no stranger to lies and betrayal, so what makes this time any different?  First chapter Tags "Two-Faced" and second follows Pyramid.  My way to explain Ziva's behavior, consistent with Season 8 canon.  More Tony/Ziva friendship but with promise.
1. Chapter 1

She sighed, closing the door and leaning against it as the familiar darkness of her apartment engulfed her. After the moment of shock wore off, Ziva had bolted out of the bar after the suspect while Tony quickly called Gibbs. Hours ensued, with photographs and interviews, surveillance tapes and campfires (Ziva had actually snarled when EJ fluttered her eyelashes and gave Tony a sappy little smile when he suggested it). They came away with nothing. The bartender confirmed that a male ordered the drink and was near enough to slip the grotesque memento into the glass, but he was maddeningly unhelpful in providing any other detail. There were no cameras inside the bar, and the bank down the street didn't have a good enough angle to even give them a general description of the P2P killer.

It was now after two in the morning, and Gibbs had finally sent them all home with orders to return at zero seven hundred. She trudged slowly to her bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor behind her. She squinted at the sudden brightness of the bathroom light, and groped blindly for her toothbrush, wondering if she should just forgo personal hygiene and fall right into bed. Her hands closed on something on the counter, and she felt suddenly more awake, staring down at the item balanced on her palm.

She had been so happy this morning. Freaked out and nervous - more nervous than she had ever been in her entire life - but happy. And so she had taken a deep breath, vowing to herself that she would meet any challenge head on just as her phone buzzed and she grinned down at the familiar name. The bubbly woman she became when talking to Ray still surprised her, as did the flutter in her stomach and the immediate smile on her face when he showed up unexpectedly at the Navy Yard. He made her happy, and it was so simple. He brought her candles and poured bottled water into a wine glass as he wooed her in front of a vending machine.

She had known what he would say to her then; and she knew what her response would be. After all, there were worse men to love than Ray. _There are better ones as well, _a small voice reminded her. But Tony himself had said it best._ I understand this one. _Ziva understood Ray, and that's why it was working.

Correction: Why it worked.

Because her simple, easy to understand, and easy to love Ray had turned out to be anything but. He lied to her. Lies of omission, yes, but lies nonetheless. It was all the more painful that he knew what the truth meant to Ziva and how many men had disabused her of the ability to trust in the past. Eli, Ari, Michael, Namir, Malachai: she had been nothing but a means to an end for each of them. She finally thought she had broken the pattern with this one, and yet as she stood in the too-bright bathroom staring down at her hand, this feeling was painfully familiar.

And infinitely worse.

With a tired sigh, she threw the pregnancy test into the trashcan and flipped off the lights, crawling into bed. She closed her eyes but could still see the small pink plus sign in front of her eyelids. And for only the third time in her life, Ziva allowed herself to be dragged under by the fear of having no idea what tomorrow would bring.

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><p>I was surprised that my Tiva loving heart would come up with something like this, but Ziva just seemed off to me through the entire episode. She was somewhat uncharacteristically emotional - both giddy and then hurt - and the club soda in the bar was enough to set this mini-story forming in my head. I'm not entirely sure that it's done writing itself either, so I may turn this into a full fledged fic in the near future. Thanks for reading and please review!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**I felt the need to give this story a proper conclusion and make it canon by explaining away a few things from Pyramid that irked me (Ziva missing the funeral, that damn empty box...) Read at your own risk; this is NOT a happy conclusion to Chapter 1.**

**As always, spelling errors and grammatical liberties are mine but the characters all belong to CBS. Disclaimed.**

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><p>Tony stood outside the door, fist half-raised, as an internal battle raged. Would he gently prod or outright accuse? He thought of the sadness and pain in those steely blue eyes as they stared at a lovingly-crafted coffin, and then knocked so suddenly that he startled himself.<p>

After several minutes and almost incessant knocking, there were still no sounds of movement from within. But he knew she was home, and now he fully intended on yelling.

"I know you're home!" He called through the door. "I'll kick it in if I have to, but I'm not in the mood to fill out the paperwork! ZIVA!" A neighbor poked a head out next door but Tony flashed his badge and a glare without halting his pounding on the door. "ZIVA, damn it, c'mon! He needed you there today, we all did and you weren't there! You owe me an explana -" He broke off as he heard the padding of quiet feet and - did he imagine that soft sigh from the other side of the door? - the slide of the deadbolt.

"Be quiet before you wake my neighbors!" She chided, pulling him into her dark living room and quickly shutting the door.

"Already did," he said, his voice sounding loud and harsh in the stillness of her apartment. She turned to face him, and his anger withered so quickly in his chest that it felt as if someone sucked the air from the room.

From the dim light of the hallway, Ziva looked awful. She was in a loose tanktop and tatty shorts, her natural curls poorly restrained with a hair tie. She looked small - no that wasn't the best word. She was petite but that was normally overshadowed by her confidence and strength. _Frail_, Tony decided. Tonight, she looked frail. The only time he had seen her look worse, she had been starved, beaten and bound in a chair. But the worst part was her eyes - they were the same now as they were in Somalia. Bloodshot. Haunted.

Sad.

"Ziva, what's wrong?" Tony asked, his voice soft and gentle now. He reached out a hand to brush a wayward strand of hair from her face but froze when she visibly flinched.

"I am not feeling well," She answered with downturned eyes. He could hear now a hoarseness in her voice that signaled crying; lots of it. Ziva, who never cried, because it was a sign of weakness. "I am so sorry I missed the funeral today. Was Gibbs upset?"

Tony waved the comment aside, studying her carefully as his concern grew. "Nevermind that, are you sick? If it's your head, you should go back to the doctor. Could be the concussion…" She reached a hand unconsciously to prod at the stitches behind her ear.

"No, it's fine. I'll be all right. But I am tired, Tony. I promise I will talk to Gibbs tomorrow."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but she reached behind her and opened the door again.

"I will see you at work. Good night Tony," she said with a tone of finality, still not meeting his gaze. She moved softly down the hall to her bedroom without another word.

Tony stood staring at the open door for nearly a minute before closing it and following her. He pushed the bedroom door open and took in the sight before him.

The room was bathed in a soft yellow light from a lone bedside table. Ziva was curled up in the middle of her bed under a mound of blankets, facing away from the door. She looked small in the large bed, a few kleenex strewn around her.

"Ziva?" He whispered softly, and he was surprised to see her jump. Normally she would have heard him coming from fifty feet away.

Her heard her sigh softly, but instead of ordering him away, she just flipped back the corner of the quilt without looking at him.

He moved quietly into the room, toeing off his shoes and crawling in beside her. It was not the first time, but it took a rare moment when the cocky playboy or the hardened assassin would admit to needing the innocent comfort that only the other could provide. It was a liberty neither of them had taken since the night Vance split up their team. She had shown up at his apartment and slid into his bed without a word, leaving for the airport in the morning with a simple _Goodbye Tony _and a kiss on the cheek. But even given the time that had lapsed, as Tony settled in behind the curve of her body, he felt like he was coming home.

"I really am sorry I missed the funeral today," she whispered after an immeasurable space of time.

"You seem to have your reasons," Tony offered quietly.

"Do you really think Gibbs was upset I wasn't there?"

Tony paused, propping himself up on an elbow to study her face. He knew the true answer but did not want to cause her more pain when he was still looking for the cause of her current distress. "I think if he knows that this is more than you not _wanting _to go, it will go a long way to making him understand."

She sighed, and he could see her chewing on her lip. "Tony, I can't tell him. Or you…"

"You can tell me anything, Zi…" He prodded gently.

She simply shook her head, propping herself up to turn off the bedside lamp. He half-expected her to tell him to leave again, but instead she snuggled back against him, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around her waist.

He was content to leave it at that. To simply offer her comfort in sleep and wait until she was ready to talk. That was really the only way to ever handle Ziva. He was already drifting towards unconsciousness when her voice came quietly but swiftly out of the darkness.

"This morning I was pregnant; now I am not."

Tony's head snapped off the pillow at the sudden and blunt revelation. "Ziva..." he whispered, his voice mixing confusion, surprise, and empathy all at once.

He heard her swallow hard and the explanation began in a careful and detached voice.

"I was so angry at Ray that I didn't say anything for weeks after I found out. That is why I wanted to go to the hotel, to finally tell him. When I went to the hospital after you found me in the barn, they said everything was okay. They wanted me to stay overnight to be safe, but I insisted that I was fine. We had a case to finish and I wanted Cobb to pay…"

Her voice caught, and Tony could hear her choking down the guilt. She took a moment before she could continue, her voice betraying more emotion with every word. "I told Ray last night, and he was so happy. He all but proposed this morning. It was not how I would have planned my life to go, and certainly not with Ray, but neither did I regret it. I actually allowed myself to hope…"

She took a deep and shaky breath. Ever expecting her to pull away, he was again surprised when she interlaced her fingers over his. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, silently urging her to keep going. He knew that only the cloak of darkness gave her the courage to continue opening up to him.

"But I had a follow up appointment this afternoon and the ultrasound showed…" She paused and tried again. "The doctor said it was all just too much stress for the..." Her careful voice cracked then, and she could go no further.

Tony's mind filled in the word she could not bring herself to say. He saw a sweet, olive-skinned bundle with Ziva's eyes and Ray's ears. The picture both delighted and annoyed him, for reasons he would have to ponder later, alone. He tightened his arm around her, now acutely aware of her flat stomach beneath his fingers.

"So that is that," she said finally, her voice again detached. "I left a message for Ray, but I could not bring myself to go to a funeral today..."

Tony felt the subject closing, knowing she was about to throw her walls back up and never mention it again. "I'm so sorry Ziva," he whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry that bastard took this away from you."

She trembled slightly and he felt her fight to control it, to keep the walls from crumbling. She gave a small shrug as she spoke to the darkness again. "It proved one of my biggest worries. I am not fit to be a mother. It would seem that fate agrees; I do not deserve it."

The tone and words pinged a memory from times better forgotten.

_I do not deserve it...It is justified_.

Even in the darkness, he could almost see the same stubborn and self-loathing expression on her face once more as he whispered to her.

"You are deserving, Ziva. You deserve to be happy, whatever shape that happiness takes."

He heard her breathing stutter and felt the tremble run fast and hard through her body. He could tell that she did not believe him; that she wasn't ready to stop blaming the world, blaming herself yet. But he was patient. He would be there to keep telling her until she was really ready to listen.

For tonight, he could say no more that would help. He could sense she was crying now, earnestly, but silently. It twisted his gut more than if she would have given herself over to loud, heart wrenching sobs, but he felt the constant pressure of her fingers against his and knew that this was exactly what she needed.

"I'm so sorry, Ziva," he repeated, softly kissing her wet cheek and resting his own in the crook of her neck.

He heard her broken whisper pierce the darkness and pierce his heart. "Me too, Tony. Me too."

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><p><strong>*Ducks rotting fruit* I really can write lighthearted and fun, I swear! I don't know why I'm going through an angsty kick right now. It's sad, I know, but it tied off the loose ends that bothered me from Ziva's strange behavior for the entire second half of the season. And someday sooner than later I plan on doing a Tiva pregnancy fic, so that will be my (hopeful) redemption!<strong>

**If it helps, my full team/casefic to explain the more exciting aspects of the P2P killer arc/cliffhanger is almost ready to start posting. I also have a David family story well underway that I should start posting this fall.**

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a little note!**


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